If Wishes Were Horses
by Alamo Girl
Summary: It’s nearing Valentine’s Day, and Lois and Clark find themselves in a “compromising” position while investigating a drug syndicate linked to highstakes horse racing.


**Disclaimer**: I claim no rights to _Superman_, or any of the characters created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. I'm only toying with them for the entertainment of myself and readers, and trust me…no money is being made.

**A/N**: As always, huge thanks to beta team **sean mongomery** and **mark clark**! You guys rock! This was done for a bit of Valentine's Day fun at the _12 Days of Clois_ Livejournal.

"**If Wishes were Horses"**

"_**If wishes were horses, beggars would ride…"**_

_He's late. Perry takes away my weekend – and a holiday weekend at that! – sends us on an assignment that could be investigated by one person alone, and Clark has the nerve to be late on top of everything!_

Lois shrugged out of her coat and tossed it in the open door of the SUV she stood beside. The parking garage at the _Daily Planet_ was mostly empty, not unusual for a Saturday. And… it was the day before Valentine's Day. A few cars dotted the sparsely lit garage, and probably belonged to the poor fools who'd convinced themselves that working on the weekend was a sign of commitment and drive – and not pathetic evidence that in reality, they had no date plans for the most romantic holiday of the year.

Lois huffed. _Not that I'm like those people_…she tossed a lock of brown hair out of her eyes. _I could have a Valentine's date…if I wanted_. Chewing her lip, she kept an eye on the entrance ramp for any sign of Clark, and tried to convince herself that her life, romantic or otherwise, was on its way back to becoming normal.

But she couldn't. She'd wanted to believe that after Superman's return – and the subsequent revelations about Jason – that she'd be able to move on. She'd pick up the pieces, dust off her clothes and go right back to being Lois Lane, ace reporter for the _Daily Planet_ – the life of fast stories, deadlines and exciting investigative journalism.

What she hadn't counted on, was having to move on…alone. Maybe she could take all the curve-balls life was slinging at her better than most…better than Richard. (Or maybe she just lived in the land of Denial!) It shouldn't have been a huge shock when Richard decided to take the over-seas correspondent position with the _Planet's_ European affiliate. It had been a relatively amiable split – the hardest blow being felt by little Jason.

The day he'd gotten on that plane – and Lois was left to pick up the pieces of a little boy's broken heart – she hated her life. She wasn't so sure she could go back to the way she was before…the way things used to be. If not for Clark – _who is now…20 minutes late!_ – Lois would have had a much more difficult time. But for some reason, she wasn't quite sure what it might be, Clark Kent made it his personal duty to be there for her. No matter what.

Lois smiled. He had become a very good friend in the last year or so. Even if he did often exasperate and confuse the hell out of her sometimes.

As if on cue, a yellow cab screeched to a halt beside the SUV and the object of her musings leapt out of the back seat.

"God, Lois, I am so sorry! There was a five-car pile-up on 5th street – traffic was backed up for miles."

Lois tilted her head skeptically while Clark fumbled with his bag and continued to rattle off the where's and why's for his tardiness. She took a moment, however, to notice that Clark…wasn't exactly dressed in his normal geek-wear.

His dark hair looked rumpled enough to be almost stylish, a few stands hanging over his forehead near his eyes. The blue denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal shockingly defined forearms set off the blue in his eyes. He had a white undershirt on, that peeked out from behind the denim where the top few buttons had been left undone. Lois watched as he threw a bag with their fake IDs and such in the back of the SUV, noting how the designer blue jeans hugged his hips in a very attractive way. The brown Dock Martins he wore probably added another inch or so to his six foot, four inch frame.

Lois swallowed and forced her thoughts back to reality. "Um, Clark? We are supposed to be rich, sophisticated aristocrats who are interested in buying prize race horses, with the hopes of discovering how drugs and drug-money laundering are becoming the 'it' thing in Metropolis high society," she paused for effect when he turned and looked at her quizzically, "And you look-"

"More like the stable boy than the Fortune 500?" Clark gave her a charming, lopsided grin and Lois had to struggle not to return it. "I figured that you would be more likely to pass for high class elite and be the one overseeing the buying and selling in our marriage." He noticed the sudden nervous look that flashed in Lois' eyes as they entered the car, and he quickly added, "Uh…_fake_ marriage."

It was funny to Clark, how easily he'd referred to their cover as 'their marriage'. As they left the garage, he chided himself for letting his wishes take over his tongue. Lois sat in the passenger seat, toying with the plain gold band on her ring finger.

_Rented car, fake IDs, and rented jewelry_. But she knew that keeping up this cover was essential to their investigation. If it worked, they'd be able to find out who was the head honcho of the organization that ran the Morning Side Farms. The farm was responsible for turning out some of the most successful race horses in the US. But people involved kept coming up dirty with drug dealing and fixing races. Lois believed that they were using the farm as a base of operations for receiving drugs and laundering the drug money through bets on the horse racing.

In order to find out, they had to get on the inside, at least for a little while.

Clark spoke up after a few minute of silence, "You look great, by the way. _Dolce and Gabanna_, huh?"

Lois gave him a look, "Perry knew a shop owner that could lend it to me. And it kind of scares me that you took one look and knew what this designer was."

Clark smirked and flipped the radio on. "Lucky guess." He failed to mention how his mouth had gone bone dry at the sight of her in the flawless outfit. Khaki slacks that smoothed over her curves like his hands ached to do – matching jacket and a soft white blouse that was fastened with only four buttons. It teased his senses with the luscious V in the neck and also afforded glimpses of her mid-drift, toned and smooth. Classy-sexy was something he'd rarely seen on Lois, but this outfit some how managed to be both sophisticated and _sensuous_.

Clark wetted his lips nervously, hoping Lois wouldn't catch him staring while he tried to maneuver out of Metropolis traffic.

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After an hour of driving the winding back roads that lead into the countryside, and warring between Lois reading the file of evidence and contacts out loud while constantly changing the radio station back and forth, they found themselves driving through what could only be described as 'farm country.'

A never-ending line of white fences flanked the SUV on either side of the road, the grass was an absurdly vivid shade of green, and on every hill a tiny pristine stable or barn sat, like a post card from Middle America. Lois snorted.

"Suddenly I feel like singing the theme song to 'Green Acres'," she commented while flipping through contact's photos.

Clark chuckled, "I don't know, Lois. It seems peaceful out here. Getting away from the bustle of the city can be good sometimes. Peace, quiet–"

"–drug dealers, money laundering, oh – and don't forget, shady dealings in the horse racing industry. Yep. Farm living is the life for _me_!" Lois shared a smirk with her partner as they slowed before a rustic gate with "Morning Side Farms" imprinted in iron over the entrance.

Clark maneuvered the car toward the huge green barn where a man in a suit that had absolutely no business anywhere near farm animals, stood and waved at them.

As they exited the car, he shook Clark's hand first, "Mister and Mrs. Small! Good of you to come out. I know Mr. Everett will be happy to know that you decided to buy into his little operation out here in the country."

Clark shot Lois a furtive glance at the use of their new surname. _Small?!_ "Yes, well, my wife just loves horse racing. I decided to buy her a new stud for a honeymoon present."

Clark pulled Lois to his side, wrapping a solid, muscular arm around her waist. The small gasp of surprise it elicited from Lois caused the grin on his face to grow to ridiculous proportions.

Lois recovered, quickly if not gracefully. "Right, yes…our honeymoon." She eyed her goofily-grinning husband. "We'd love to take a look around the place, if that's alright?" _If they are stashing drugs,_ Lois thought, _the barn is the best bet. And Clark is taking this husband stuff a little too seriously…_his hand had inched its way down her hip and was now resting comfortably on her right _cheek_. Lois hoped a blush wasn't forming on her neck…

"Certainly," the 'Suit' replied after a moment of uncertainty. He glanced toward the barn's closed doors, "Let me go file this paper work you've brought with you and make a couple of phone calls to Mr. Everett, and then I'm sure I can find one of the ranch hands to give you the guided tour. I'm sure your stud is in the stable, if you'd like to see him, Mrs. Small."

As the Suit scurried away, Lois noticed that Clark had already made it to the door (somehow without her or the Suit seeing it!) and was easing it open. She threw one more look over her shoulder, to make sure no one else was around, and then hurried to follow Clark.

_Yeah…right. My stud in the barn is going to get his butt kicked if he finds something without me!_

The barn was cleaner than Lois' apartment – not that she didn't try to keep Jason's toys and clothes in some sort of order _most_ of the time. The hay loft was enormous, and on either side, the spaces were lined with stalls and work areas. Several stalls were occupied. Clark was walking slowly, taking in the surroundings over the top of his glasses in a somewhat intense manner…

…when Lois rammed into him from behind.

"Dammit, Clark! What are you doing, sight seeing?"

Clark had barely felt the impact at first, but his super senses registered the feel of the heat of her body pressed to his like fire, even if it was for a millisecond. "Sorry, Lois, but I was making sure we were alone in here. Or should I call you Missus _Small_?" He grinned.

"Yeah, I didn't pick the married name. Perry's doing. Now, my bet is that they have the drugs stashed in here somewhere. What was it? Heroin?"

Clark nodded, "If the reports about Everett are correct, Metropolis narcotics said that since he's taken over the horse racing industry here, the amount of street grade heroin has gone up exponentially over the past two years."

Lois started opening doors and trunks, "So, if I was going to smuggle in heroin, wile running a nationally recognized racing farm…where I might be inspected by racing officials who may want to make sure I'm not 'juicing' my ponies on illegal stuff…where would I hide my smack?"

Clark's mind suddenly veered _waaay_ off target, as he turned to see Lois bent over a trunk rifling through the contents. He'd appreciated how those khaki slacks clung to her shapely figure before, and how firm and luscious her right '_cheek'_ had felt under his fingers. Perhaps it was being out in the country with all that nature and rustic surroundings, but the sight of her bent over in such a _suggestive_ pose – her rear inviting his mind to create scenarios he'd never thought about (outside his own private bedroom before) – Clark suddenly found it hard to swallow.

Heat began to curve and twist inside him, somewhere below the belt and radiating outward. He shook his head. _Stop it, Clark! You're taking 'back to nature' a little too far there, buddy! _

Another part of his brain – most likely the one that controlled his baser urges piped up with: _But you are pretending to be married! Isn't that what you've always wanted? C'mon, you're finally getting to live out a fantasy and you aren't going to have the slightest bit of fun with it?_

_Yeah, but it'd would be too much to hope for that Lois felt the same way_. Feeling like steam was about to fog up his glasses, Clark forced his gaze away from the provocative view and opened up the stall door near by. He'd used his X-Ray vision and determined that there were no drugs anywhere on this floor, but he'd seen something anomalous when he'd scanned passed the bay mare in this stall.

Lois stood up in time to see Clark shrug out of the denim shirt he'd been wearing, exposing her eyes to a beautiful sight. Clad in only the white undershirt and jeans that she now noticed, where tight enough to afford glimpses of his not only impressive behind, but his equally sexy front, Lois watched as he sidled up to the mare, speaking in soft, soothing tones.

She stood motionless, enthralled with the view of his lean, muscular arms working small circles on the mare's chest and sides, soothing the fidgeting animal. His shoulders flexed and rippled beneath the thin fabric of the shirt, and Lois suddenly needed to get out of her own jacket for fear of spontaneous combustion. Something about the sight of a well-built man in tight jeans, speaking softly to a beautiful animal plucked those primal strings that all women have, though they may try to hide it. And for a moment, Lois was very jealous of the attention that mare was receiving from Clark.

While he continued to study the mare, as if he was looking for something, Lois ran her hands over her face… _stupid Valentine's Day hormones! God, I need to date again, fast!_

The hayloft seemed like the next place to look, so she started up the stairs, hoping some distance might give her libido a chance to calm down. "When you're done being the Horse Whisperer, meet me up here," she muttered down to Clark.

"Lois, uh…I think I may have figured out how they are getting the drugs in and out of this farm." Clark snagged his denim shirt off the stall door and looked up the hayloft stairs.

"Clark will you get up here and stop yelling," Lois hissed, as Clark shuffled up the stairs.

When he reached the hayloft, Clark had to be sure he was holding onto something, lest he topple backward ass-over-tea kettle down the stairs. Lois was on her hands and knees sifting through a pile of the soft straw. Her hair was mussed, there was a flush in her cheeks and she'd taken her jacket off. Clark's heart rate sky rocketed as he saw down the front of her blouse, the soft swell of her breasts heaving with exertion and a slight glisten of sweat.

He let out a shaky breath…_Oh, God…_

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Lois sat up and shoved her hair out of her eyes. Clark was standing in front of her, chest heaving – but it was the look in his eyes that stole her breath literally away. It was the smoldering look that comes from longing for something too long, and never being able to have it. The look between two adults who've endured too many nights alone, and too many fleeting touches that never sate the desires within.

They'd spent a lot of time together, in the year or so since Richard left. And Lois would be an utter liar if she didn't admit that she was developing feelings for Clark. And a lot of them lately weren't the slightest bit _platonic_! There was something about him, something comforting and safe, like she knew she could trust him with anything – something vaguely familiar, like a dream that evaporates just beyond one's fingertips.

But all Lois knew at that moment was that she _wanted_ him. Story be damned, if she looked into those blue eyes, sizzling with lust and arousal – she'd melt into a puddle of uncontrollable emotions.

Clark was also waging war on the inside. As he slowly came to kneel before Lois, it took every once of his super strength not to scoop her up and lay her bare to his hands and tongue and lips. He'd waited so long – through the relationship with Richard, and even through is departure. He'd been scared she wasn't ready for anything more than friendship and companionable visits, so that was exactly what he consigned himself to be. Her friend, partner…companion. Though his heart's desires were pushed, shoved and even _strong-armed_ into submission beneath his practiced mask of _'good ol'_ Clark Kent.

She didn't know his secret…or at least, didn't remember it – but that didn't abate his longings for her. _All of her._ A man in love can do the impossible…and put his heart on hold for his love as long as it takes. And even _his_ superpowers had _nothing_ on the strength of his love for the woman before him.

Time seemed to slow as he brought a hand up to her face, tracing her jaw with a feather-light touch. Lois looked down, a wave of nervousness taking over for a second. His skin on hers was like fire and ice and she shivered. When he pulled away, she caught his gaze.

The sudden break in contact seemed to unbalance him, and she could see uncertainty flit across his features. He was searching here eyes for permission, yet telling her that he'd stop if she wished it. Lois could see the conflict raging in him, his need warring with his empathy and concern. Something welled up and overflowed inside her chest. He cared so much…how could she have not seen this before?

_Stupid blinders…_she thought. To put an end to his fears, Lois turned her head slightly, caught his hand which had been hovering near her cheek, and brought his fingers to her mouth. She dropped a few light kisses on the tips. Looking up from beneath her lashes, she watched Clark's reaction as she slipped one of his fingers in her mouth and suckled it gently. Achingly slowly.

The gasp that hissed out between his lips was worth it. As she suckled, edging closer to him, Clark let his eyes roll back and close in perfect ecstasy. He savored the feeling of her tongue doing interesting things around his fingertips, for just a moment, struggling to control himself.

When he opened his eyes and saw Lois lick her lips, tasting him – that was all the invitation he needed. Clark lunged forward and pulled Lois to him, capturing her mouth in his and drinking her in.

Lois couldn't breath. The passion rolling off Clark was intoxicating and carried her along in the flood. Frantic hands started fumbling with buttons and blouses.

Lois shoved her hands under his shirt and felt rock-hard muscles defined as though by an artists chisel. Clark threw his shirt off with blinding speed and went to work on Lois' blouse, all the while exploring her mouth like a drowning man. Lois arched her back, so that their entire upper and lower bodies could come crashing together.

They were slowed only for a moment, when the '_rip'_ of Lois' blouse signaled that Clark had lost his patience with designer buttons. She looked down at the buttons which had popped off in all directions and smiled slyly back at Clark. Between pants he twitched a shy smile back, before they came together again. Lois had just enough time to undo the top button of his jeans when Clark's tongue started lathing her chest and breasts.

Somewhere along the way, her bra had disappeared. Her ministrations with his pants were forgotten in a fog of passion as he nipped at one of her breasts before suckling it. Her back arched in a spasm involuntarily and the moan that escaped nearly sent Clark over the edge. The time of worrying if they'd be heard was long gone!

Their bodies found the perfect rhythm, undulating slowly in the bed of straw and blankets. Somewhere in the dizzy heat roasting his insides and his brain-power, Clark was able to remind himself not to cut entirely loose – his movements, while pushed by a torrent of passion, were gentle.

Lois had no such reservations. She grazed his neck with her teeth, eliciting rumbling growls from the broad chest above her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, arms and biceps, reveling in the feel of taught muscle and sweat. She'd managed to wriggle out of her slacks along the way; her lacy red panties were beginning to lose the battle as Clark's fingers deftly worked their way under them to places that sent Lois' body into spasms of giddy bliss. Who knew the farm boy had such 'nimble fingers'?

Lois fairly purred in ecstasy as she felt Clark press his lower half down on her desperately, the fabric of his boxer briefs the only barrier. His rock-hard erection pressed into her upper thigh, and Lois gasped…a seductive smile pulling at her lips as she drank in his mouth again.

_Small was definitely_ not _the right surname to choose_…

Clark's chest thrummed again in a husky moan as Lois ran her fingers over the stretched fabric of his boxer briefs in tease, ever so slightly pulling them down in expectation of the heave that was waiting…if she could get the damn things off…

"Hey, Harry! When was the last time you exercised Minute Man? He needs a good work out."

The two reporters, slick with sweat and desire froze absolutely still. Clark balanced his weight over Lois, his head buried in the shoulder he'd been nibbling on, when he jerked, knocking his glasses off.

_Oh crap! Bad enough to get caught like this, now she's going to see…everything!_ He angled his eyes down her chest, allowing himself a second to appreciate the fact that he was getting to see Lois' everything…a very nice, smooth, voluptuous everything…_Gah! Move it, Clark! Clothes, glasses!_

The voices down below got louder, "I'll give him his workout later, the new bay mare just came in. Everett told me the vet would be coming by to retrieve the merchandise from her."

"Yeah," the first guy said, "Too bad we have to use these horses like this, mule-ing drug in the country using their insides as carry-alls. This girl has been used so much she's sterile."

Frantic, Lois whispered, as if oblivious to the fact that she was topless and almost naked, "They're trafficking drugs in by putting them _inside_ the female horses? That's sick!"

Clark rolled off her, scrambling to pull his jeans up, fastening them with one hand, "Yeah, I was going to tell you that I thought that was what they were doing. There was medical extraction supplies in that mare's stall…where's my shirt?" He shuffled the hay around like a mad man for a moment, before snatching his white tee.

"Forget that, where's my bra?!" Lois was clutching her white blouse to her front and slipping into her pants.

She started lifting handfuls of hay up and tossing them aside, "_Bra, bra, bra_... I need the damn bra!" _They are going to hear us, come up here and find me naked with Clark! Oh, my God…I must be insane!_

Her bra came flinging at her head. Clark had flipped it at her while pulling his shirt on. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Harry's voice down stars floated up, "Hey, weren't there supposed to be two new buyers here today? Everett's assistant told me they'd be here waiting for a tour."

_Oh dammit!_ Lois slipped into her bra and blouse, finding only in the last minute that _all_ of her buttons had been popped off. Clark was digging through the hay looking for his glasses. She tugged the blouse close – it looked ridiculous! _Might as well take the damn thing off and put the jacket on!_

Just as they heard foot steps ascending the stairs, Lois tore off the blouse and reached for her jacket to put on and button up. It would look silly and very low, but at least she could get away semi-decent. Clark's glasses were under her jacket buried in the hay.

"Here," she hissed. She shoved the glasses into Clark's frantic hands, but didn't look up.

Clark swallowed the bowling-ball sized lump in his throat. Just like back at the _Planet_, Lois hadn't even taken the time to notice. As he slipped them back into place, a tiny part of him was hurt that she still didn't take the time to _see_ him. Of course, Clark consoled himself with the lingering feel of her skin under his hands, and the feeling of her moist, hot…

"Oh! Uh...excuse me. Mr. Everett's assistant told me you'd be waiting for a tour?" Harry the farm hand didn't even try to disguise the knowing smirk on his face.

The sight in front of him was comical to say the least. The young husband, flushed and straightening his pants as he stood, was trying to shield his equally mussed wife – with red cheeks and swollen lips. Ah, young love…

Lois recovered her voice first, "Yes! Um…actually we were supposed to have a tour of the facilities, but I think we've seen enough, right darling?" She pinched Clark's arm as he tried to dust the hay out of his dark hair.

"Oh, yeah! Right! I think we are going to have to reschedule that tour, something's come up. But tell Mr. Everett that we're very impressed with his… uh… organization here." Clark grabbed his jacket and started forward, pulling Lois closely behind him.

"Right. Sure." Harry stepped aside, still smirking to let them pass. If they were new, yet still privy to Everett's side businesses, than he needn't worry if they heard anything about the drug shipping. _Not that those two would hear anything but their own heavy breathing,_ he mused.

Clark ushered Lois out to the car and quickly drove away. They had what they needed for the investigation. But neither of them could find the enthusiasm to talk about it on the drive home. Both were still feeling the effects of what had _almost_ occurred.

Before he dropped her off, they sat in the car for a while, just staring at each other. Lois could see a renewed longing in Clark's eyes… and perhaps a little something else. And she couldn't deny that what she'd felt for him had been all too real.

Clark started in a shy voice, "I wish…you know…" He tried again, "I don't regret it, Lois."

"Neither do I."

That surprised him, and filled him with such hope he thought his chest would explode. "I just wish…" he left it hanging when Lois smiled and took his hand in hers.

"If wishes were horses…right, Smallville?" She smiled as if to bolster his seemingly nervous fidgeting, and leaned forward and gave him a soft, simple kiss on the lips. A kiss filled with tenderness and understanding, and hope for what may come in the future.

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Days later, the state and Federal authorities were turning Morning Side Farms upside down after a story had hit from the _Daily Planet_ about drug trafficking and money laundering connected to the horse racing industry and Mr. Everett's farm. It seemed that a tip had been sent in to the state racing authority to check out the internal health of the race horses, and it was discovered that millions of dollars worth of heroin had been smuggled in at the expense of the health of some of the animals.

A young agent leaned over the railing of the hay loft in the main barn.

"Dude! Elliot! Check this out!" A smile was in his voice as he held the object up in the air for all the agents below to see.

A beautiful, white, _Dolce and_ _Gabanna_ blouse dangled from his finger tips – the buttons all torn off.

"Looks like someone had a helluva time and a little _roll in the hay_, eh?"

**The End

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Like? Too fluffy? Am I totally evil for teasing them THAT much, before the bucket of cold water is tossed? Let me know! **READ** and **REVIEW**! Tell the author what you think! 


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